Fohrsdee, the 14th of Falling, 768 A.E.
To Anthea, the departure from Miniya had seemed too easy, if that was possible. For half a Wayke Makan and Rolf had worked the docks and any other menial jobs that were available on a Dee-to-Dee basis for foreigners. Their pay was just enough to keep the four of them in a crude room and fed with a little spare left over for them to save toward passage out of Miniya. The poor accommodations hadn’t bothered her. She’d stayed in worse in Norsjalde. The Elegians had a stronger sense of hygiene than did the Kerathi, who seemed to almost abhor bathing regularly. In contrast, Miniya was littered with bathing houses, numerous spas, and other health and hygiene treatment shops. When you sweated as much as they did in the heat of the Saysuhn of Red and even in the Saysuhn of Orange, it was necessary to clean up well.
It would have taken them Waykes, even Munths to save enough to get them off the island. Now though, only a Dee after meeting Sagira, she found herself and her companions on a cramped but swift sailing vessel heading east. And had she not had more important matters to attend to – namely finding out the fate of her father and reaching Aetheline – she might have actually missed Miniya. Its small shops and teahouses were charming, and the people had been bedecked in beautiful flowing clothes of soft linen. Even the laboring class was attired richly compared to what she had seen on Maethlin. Wandering the narrow streets with Bedros had reminded her sharply of home, which brought out a mixture of sad nostalgia and a fond sense of almost being back home. Almost.
How Sagira had managed to book a vessel so quickly, Anthea wasn’t completely sure. Apparently, the woman had some connections, but Ife had put in a word for her with the ship’s captain as well. What that meant, Anthea wasn’t sure, but she hoped Sagira hadn’t had to do anything unpleasant with the man to secure their departure. She frowned just thinking about that possibility.
She was still frowning as she leaned against the railing of the dhow, absorbing some of the bright middee sun that was necessary for her health, when Makan approached her with a neutral expression on his face. Often his features spoke little of what he was feeling, as he tended toward stoicism compared to her other companions’ more obvious moods. His footsteps were inaudible over the splashing of waves against the hull as the boat hurried east, but she felt his presence like one often feels eyes upon them, even with the commotions of sailors going about the business of running a ship.
“I figured you’d be happy to be on the sea again and finished working on Miniya.” She commented upon seeing his expression.
“I am.”
“Then why the long look?” She asked, deciding that his bland expression was a slightly negative one.
“I am merely apprehensive. Perhaps it is Rolf’s cynicism rubbing off on me – we know he has enough to go around – but this time his concerns about Sagira may be correct.”
“How do you mean?” Anthea asked a bit angrily. “She helped us get off that island when no one else would.”
“But we didn’t ask anyone else. This just fell into our laps. Anything this easy bears questioning.” Makan warned.
“My enchantment led me to her.” Anthea said simply, as if that would answer all questions.
“So, it did, but where is your enchantment leading us? Why would an enchantment to find your father, who unfortunately might not have made it off of Maethlin, lead you first to Rolf, then to me, and most recently to Sagira?”
“I don’t know.” Anthea admitted.
Makan crossed his arms over his broad chest. His dark-skinned face, the color of mahogany, assumed a look of deep consideration. It was quite an intense look with his dark eyes set within a face framed by even darker hair. “I feel it in my bones that this is all so much larger in scope than any of us have considered. There are great wheels in motion here, many of which we cannot see because we are too close to them. The Gods are at play, and I am leery about being crushed in their divine plots.”
Anthea nodded, understanding too well what he meant. “Sometimes things are hardest to see when you’re up close.”
“Indeed, but if you tell me that you trust Sagira, I will not question her again. I just want to know that you believe in her, and that is good enough for me.” Makan said solemnly.
Anthea resisted the urge to just blurt out that she did trust the woman, of course, why wouldn’t she? Out of respect for her friend’s concern, she looked him in the eyes and searched her heart, mind, and instincts before answering. “I trust her, Makan. There is strength and good in her. Even if the enchantment is leading us astray, it is not because of her. She will help us.”
Makan smiled. “Good. I felt the same, but it is more than just my life at stake if I judged wrong. Things are far more complicated than I like. Hearing a confirming voice helps ease my heart.”
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“Life before meeting me was simple then?”
Makan laughed. “My people say, ‘Life is never simple unless you’re dead.’ No, life was not simple for me. Simpler, yes, but not simple.”
Anthea shook her head. “I don’t understand Muerans.”
“Oh?”
“They supposedly wander the seas forever, right?”
“Well, we return to our home islands from time to time to repair, take on some supplies that we can’t get directly from the sea, or to meet with others when it is time to choose a mate or come to the defense of our temples and the forests, we build our boats from.”
“But how can you not have a home?”
“Anthea, it is not that we don’t have homes, but rather that your definition of a home is different than ours. The sea is our country, and our boats are our homes.” Makan explained impassionedly. “We are not unlike the Ox-Men, roaming seas of grass in moving communities, or the Uleaut people on the fields of ice. They, too, have a different concept of home than the other peoples around us.” Makan explained.
“Nomads then?” Anthea asked, not liking the idea of never being able to stand in one place and call it home.
“I guess you could say that. Other than the Landbound, there are few of us who would willingly give up the sea for any length of time. Land doesn’t move right. Its smells and lack of motions are too strange. To give up the seas is to turn our backs on the Gods that favor our people, for they are all of the seas.”
“Landbound? So, there are those among you who live on land always?”
“Some of our people don’t have the love for the sea that defines our people, but they are few. Others of us have become scared or too deeply wounded by the sea to ply it any longer. The sea is a harsh home, and when it claims many that you love you sometimes want to turn your back on it. There are also a few of our kind that love the ways of commerce and the other races, so they emulate their styles and become tied to the land.”
“And these people are looked down upon?”
“By some, but I know that no lifestyle is for everyone. To each his own, and may they find happiness in doing so.” Makan said with a shrug.
“So, what’s my lifestyle then? Where is my happiness?” She asked.
“I don’t know, Anthea.” He admitted. “Sometimes you have to brave a long spell of rough water before you come out in the clear.”
“But that doesn’t mean I have to like it, right?”
Makan nodded. “That’s right. Hate it if you want, use it as fuel to get by the trials thrown before you. Do what you must to see the Dee through, and I think the Gods will smile upon you.”
“It is difficult to accept sometimes but comforting as well to know that hard work pays off somehow.”
“It is often not the result that is as important as the effort. People may see the result more clearly, but it is the effort, the actual ‘getting there’ that shows our true character.”
“Another one of your people’s sayings?”
Makan grinned. “No, just an observation or idle speculation by an old sailor.”
“You’re not old.” Anthea said, nudging him in the ribs.
“Old enough. I could be your father.”
“No, you couldn’t, we look nothing alike.” Anthea replied, grinning widely. “You have been my father’s friend though. He would have liked your insights and wisdom.”
Makan shook his head and laughed. “The first step to wisdom is to know that there are always wiser people out there. I just try to minimize the number of people that make me look like a great fool by thinking a lot before I go and do something too foolish. I don’t always succeed though.”
“I think you do alright.”
“High praise, madam. You’re too kind.” He said with a wink.
“I wish I could do the same. I just follow my instincts and this enchantment around. Now I’ve got the strangest set of traveling companions seen in Yarres, and I’ve crammed Bedros into his third ship in the space of a couple Waykes, with another one waiting for him once we reach Rummas…” Anthea sighed. “It’s really bad on his hooves. Plus, he has to stoop down everywhere. He says little, but I know it pains his back.”
“Ships aren’t built to dimensions needed by Ox-Men, but I’m sure he suffers the discomfort willingly for you. He dotes on you sometimes, I think. It’s almost as if he sees you as his child sometimes, or at least a younger sister.”
“Do you think so?” Anthea asked, having honestly never wondered how Bedros saw her. She’d always just been his friend as long as she could remember, and it had been his job to guard her. “There are no romantic feelings there are there? That would be odd, and I don’t mean because of what he is.”
“No, certainly not. It’s mostly like an older brother looking after a little sister I think.” Makan replied. Then he added mischievously, “But another among our number might feel differently.”
“What?” Anthea exclaimed in surprise. “Surely not you.”
Makan feigned a hurt look. “I’m not good enough?”
“No. You’re old, remember?” Anthea teased.
“Ah, yes. I meant Rolf though.”
She snorted. “Rolf? Ha!”
“Yes?” Rolf called over, his thumbs hooked under his belt as he crossed the short expanse of the plank deck from the hatch that he’d just exited to meet them.
“Nothing.” Anthea waved him off and then started laughing.
Makan joined in, leaving Rolf to stand beside them in uncomfortable silence. After a short time interspersed with Anthea’s giggles and Makan’s amused chuckles, Rolf wandered off with a sour look on his face.
He wasn’t sure what the private joke had been, but he kne when he wasn’t going to be let in on a secret. Better he spent time alone than worry about what others had said. Besides, he quite preferred the Ox-Man’s company to that of the others. At least Bedros knew how to let a man think in peace and quiet, especially now that he was awaiting a reunion with some of his own folk within a Dee or two. The Ox-Man had fallen into a sort of silent contemplation, likely about what he was going to do when he met his people, so he was even quieter and more still than normal.
As long as he could avoid Sagira for most of the trip, things would be fine. She spent most of her time gambling and joking with the woman captain of the ship. Rolf shook his head as he considered women always overseeing a nation and its commerce. It just wasn’t quite right.
Yes, things would be all right… until Rummas. Sagira might even call it quits then and go back to Elegius. One could always hope, right? The idea that she might go back home put a smile on his face, if but for a few Mynettes.
